


Twelve Days of Christmas

by seekeronthepath



Series: Tower Tales [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Moving In Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-02 15:54:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2817872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekeronthepath/pseuds/seekeronthepath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The December soon after the Battle of New York, the Avengers gradually congregate at Stark Tower, and since they don't really have family to share it with, they spend Christmas together.</p><p>Note: This is something of a prequel to my longer work "It's Not Easy", which begins two and a half months after this story. They can be read completely independently of each other, but they can also be read together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twelve Days of Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as one-shot bonus fic to celebrate a) my first Christmas as a writer on Ao3; b) three months writing "It's Not Easy"; c) reaching 40,000 words; and d) passing 100 kudos on that story. So thank you to all of you who have supported my work on that story, and Merry Christmas (or other seasonal greeting of your preference) to all of you reading this.

_a partridge in a pear_ _tree_

"Captain, you have been living in SHIELD barracks for almost four months now." Sitwell's tone was slightly apologetic, and Steve got the impression he was passing on someone else's 'recommendations'. "While we are happy to support you, you are not going to get used to twenty-first century life while living in SHIELD barracks."

"So...I'm being ordered to move out?" He'd been awake for less than four months, he knew absolutely no-one except through SHIELD, he barely had a handle on electronic banking, and he was getting kicked out a fortnight before Christmas. This was...well, it could have been worse, actually, he had _lived_ worse, but it was pretty bad.

"So SHIELD is strongly recommending you move into independent accommodations as soon as possible." Apologetic, Sitwell may be, but there was no hint of compromise in his face.

 

_two turtle_ _doves_

Agents Nguyen and Brewer were glaring at him. Nguyen had been critically injured in the Battle of New York, and Brewer had been dating him for over a year before then, and the two of them were among the many who seemed to have ignored the 'mind-controlled agents are not to be blamed for their actions' memo.

"I can't believe they let him carry weapons," Nguyen murmured, wrapping an arm around his lover.

" _I_ can't believe they let him live," Brewer answered, voice loud enough to be heard a few metres away.

"Well, _I_ can't believe you're stupid enough to harass me in a public location, with security cameras, _again,"_ Clint responded, louder still. "You know that eventually I'm going to make a complaint about you guys?" He wasn't really. For all he was supposed to believe it wasn't his fault, putting up with the bullying felt like penance.

 

_three French hens_

The apartment was nice, Steve supposed. The neighbours were friendly, and SHIELD assured him none of them were plants. One of them even kept chickens, and there was something comforting about the clucking. It wasn't too far to walk to the store, or to the subway to get elsewhere in the city. It was bigger the places he'd shared with Bucky, but then, he had a regular income now. But utilities were complicated, and he had absolutely no idea how to set up a phone line or internet, even though everyone insisted they were necessary, and he's have to buy furniture, and kitchen things, and...

"Wait, the rent is _how_ much?"

 

_four calling_ _birds_

"I'm telling you, Nat, this is going to drive me nuts." Natasha was on a mission somewhere classified in west Africa, but it wasn't deep cover, so he'd called her on a burner phone to vent.

"Mmm." Her policy to never say anything he could figure out for himself dovetailed neatly with her preference not to say anything personal in a potentially unsecure location.

"I mean, after Phil's house got sold, I didn't want to think about it, it made sense to move back into barracks. It's not like I need a lot of space." He sighed. "But I really can't handle the atmosphere."

"I look forward to seeing the new place." And that was that, really. If Nat said he was going to move, he was going to move.

 

_five gold rings_

"Stark, Barton, Captain, that will be all. Please pass on this information to Thor if you see him." Sitwell dismissed them from the boring-ass meeting that Tony honestly thought had done nothing at all, but it was saying things like that aloud that got him a reputation as 'not a team-player', and he _liked_ working with the Avengers, so he kept his mouth shut long enough to hear:

"You're house-hunting too?"

"What's this about house-hunting?" Tony asked.

"Clint and I are living in the barracks at the moment, but SHIELD wants me to start living independently and the agents aren't being very respectful to Clint," Steve explained. "I can't _believe_ how expensive it is!"

Well, he had been going to invite them to spend more time at the tower..."You should move into the Tower. Plenty of space, highly secure, easy to coordinate for missions, and I've got plenty of gold in the vaults so I don't need to charge you rent."

"You can't..." Steve said, aghast.

"Steve." Clint interrupted. "We are being offered free, luxury accommodations by the billionaire. The word you're looking for is 'yes'."

 

_six geese a laying_

"[Thank you, Doctor Roberts]" She couldn't have been twenty, and she had three children already, one of whom he had just helped recover from cholera. "[Please, I don't have money, but the chickens are laying well - will you take some of the eggs?]"

Bruce had long ago learnt to accept such gifts, for the sake of the giver, and to keep himself alive. "[Thank you for the eggs, and I was glad to help. You should check to make sure your water source isn't being contaminated, and to make sure your water is good, filter it through eight layers of clean cotton cloth.]" He smiled at her. "[Hopefully we won't meet again soon.]"

They said their goodbyes, and Bruce returned to his current home with a basket of eggs that would feed him for a few days if he bartered them right. His phone began to buzz in his pocket. "What is it, Tony?" he answered, without even looking. Only one person actually knew how to contact him on this phone, which was why he kept it.

"I invited Clint and Steve to move into the Tower yesterday, and now the theoretical Avengers floors are becoming actual Avengers floors, and I keep thinking I should make changes but I really don't have time before they move in, and you're aware that there's a space for you here, right?"

"I know, Tony. Next time I'm in America, it's the first place I'll go."

 

_seven swans a_ _swimming_

Clint had gotten rid of a lot of stuff when he...well, when him living with Phil became him outliving Phil. He had sold a lot of it, and put a lot more in storage, and brought some of it with him to the barracks. Unfortunately, what he'd brought with him had included shelves full of tourist junk from the many, many missions he'd been on since he joined SHIELD. They all had memories attached, but many of them were also fragile, so they each got wrapped in newspaper or a T-shirt as he packed them into boxes. Steve came by to help him pack, but there wasn't all _that_ much for him to do.

Then they went to Steve's quarters for Clint to return the favour, and...Steve wasn't as badly off as Clint when he'd first been recruited, but it was pretty bad. He had seven boxes of stuff, when they packed it all up. Books, sketchbooks, pens, pencils, paperwork, clothes, Captain America suit and weapons, toiletries, basic kitchen things, some blankets...seven boxes.

 

_ eight maids a milking _

"So you each get half a floor - Clint, you're sharing with Romanoff if she decides to come by; there's no one else of Steve's floor yet. I'll show you those in a minute. I have a floor to myself, and there's workshops and labs downstairs. The common floor is here, that's for all the Avengers and/or Avengers-adjacent people who end up living here, and there's a gym on 86. I'm working on an obstacle course/shooting range in the basement, but I need your input on that one, Merida."

Clint and Steve were staring at the common floor - the dining table, the kitchen, the lounge area with the huge couches and the even bigger TV. Did they...did they not like it? He could change it, but, I mean, that would take time, and he hadn't exactly had their input in the first place, and...

"Oh my god, Tony." Steve sounded...shocked? Impressed? "This was already here?"

"Yeah, I rebuilt it this way after New York." He'd figured that, at the very least, he might be able to persuade Bruce to move in, but he'd hoped for all of them, even if Steve had been a douchebag.

"How do you even keep it all clean?" Clint wondered, and right on cue, one of the cleaning bots showed up.

"These guys are basically robot maids. They can't sort worth a damn, so keep stuff where it should be, but they can clean surfaces. I'm trying to teach them to load the dishwasher, but it's slow going."

"Oh my god, Tony." Steve said again. "Thank you so much, this is amazing."

 

_nine ladies dancing_

Natasha both loved and hated dancing on missions. There was a time when she'd thought that that's what she was, a trained dancer, but now she knew it was one of the Red Room's planted identities. It was comforting anyway, a relic of a false childhood, except when it wasn't, so when she came back from the mission, she went straight to Clint. Which meant going to the Tower.

"Good evening, Agent Romanoff," Jarvis greeted her as she arrived. "Will you be making use of your quarters tonight?"

She automatically suppressed the urge to shudder. Tony's AI did _not_ get to watch her sleep. "Whether I do or do not, Jarvis, you will keep your eyes and ears away from me or I will make you."

There was silence until she reached Clint's floor, when he greeted her enthusiastically. "Hey, Nat! Come check this out!"

 

_ ten lords a leaping _

Clint jumped up to the open vent in his lounge room, pulled himself in and began to explore. The rooms themselves were large, thoughtfully designed and furnished, and clearly cost money, but they looked like they could stand up to a beating. Jarvis was installed everywhere, but Tony had said you could exclude him from your space (within certain parameters) if you wanted. Actually..."Jarvis?"

"Yes, Agent Barton?" Huh. Apparently Tony had expected him, or at least _someone_ to be in the vents, if Jarvis could see and hear and speak from here.

"If I took this shaft down, it'd get me to the gym, right?" Where Natasha hid herself in plain sight for a living, Clint just hid, and vents were perfect for that.

"It would, Agent Barton."

"Cool." Instead of going down, Clint went up, towards Steve's rooms and the common floor. Not that he'd try to get _into_ Steve's rooms from here, not yet, anyway, but contingency plans never hurt anyone. A few minutes later, he dropped into the common kitchen and began to make himself a cup of coffee. Even the coffee makers were custom here.

 

_ eleven pipers piping _

"Whether _you_ acknowledge him or not, Father,  _I_ call Loki brother, regardless of his deeds." Thor's voice was loud, too loud even for the Yule feast, _definitely_ too loud for such dissenting sentiment on his father's day, and the pipers who had been playing faltered in their tune.

"You may call him so if you wish, Thor, but you will not do so on this day, in this hall." His father's voice was implacable, and Thor decided he had had enough of Asgard for the month, perhaps for longer.

"Then I shall bid farewell to thee and to my friends, shield-brothers and shield-sisters. With your permission, All-father, I take my leave." There were rumblings of surprise and discontent, and the Warriors Three looked unhappy, but Thor's departure was uncontested.

When he reached the Rainbow Bridge, he asked Heimdall, "What are my Midgardian friends doing?"

"Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis are with their families. Your new shield-brethren are in the smith's tower, but for the doctor-beserker." Heimdall never looked at Thor, and his voice was both sympathetic and disapproving. Heimdall was difficult to understand sometimes.  

"Then please send me there, Lord Heimdall, to Stark Tower."

Heimdall nodded, there was the dizzying transition of the Bifrost, and Thor landed heavily on the balcony of Stark Tower. As he approached the doors, they opened before him, though he saw no man to open them. "Welcome to Stark Tower, Master Odinson," came the voice of...Jarvis?...Stark's invisible servant. "If I may ask, what is your reason for coming?"

Thor put Mjolnir down and let his armour fade away. "I found Yule in Asgard to be unpleasant, and my companions from New Mexico are not at home. I hoped to visit my battle companions, and I was told I might find them here."

 

_ twelve drummers drumming _

 "Bruce!" Bruce found Tony's enthusiasm a little disconcerting. People who actually knew who he was weren't generally glad to see him. "Welcome back! Come on, I want to show you the new labs."

Steve wandered through, grabbing a bottle of coke from the fridge. "Hi Bruce, it's good to see you."

"Hi Steve."

"Are you staying here long?" That was the question, wasn't it. Was he staying? He'd lost the knack of staying anywhere years ago, but...

"At least until New Years," he offered, as a compromise. Maybe he would stay longer this time, before the guilt and fear sent him hiding again. It would be nice, he thought, to have friends around for a little while.

 

_ 'twas the night before Christmas _

"Hey Clint," Steve asked, "do you know if Tony has plans for Christmas?"

Clint shrugged. "Maybe. I know I don't." He looked distant for a moment. "We never knew if we'd be on a mission at Christmas, and we never did the gift-giving thing, but Phil and Nat and I always used to have dinner together at his place." The corner of his mouth twisted unhappily. "It wouldn't be the same without him."

"Mmm." Steve thought back to all the Christmases he'd spent shivering and coughing, wrapped up in Bucky's arms to keep the cold at bay. "Last Christmas, Bucky and the Commandoes and I were holed up in...France, I think." They'd sung carols as they marched, and pretended that their rations were turkey and Christmas pudding. Steve hadn't been with that many people for Christmas since Bucky's parents died. "It was only eight months ago for me, actually. I got a little out of sync when I, uh, froze."

"Geez, Steve, I hadn't thought of that." Clint put a hand on his arm. "Do you want to do Christmas dinner with the others, maybe? Since everyone's here."

Steve nodded slowly. "I think...I think I'd like that."

 

_ Christmas Day _

"Uh...what's all this, Spangles?" Tony looked around the kitchen, at mixing bowls in the sink, and baking trays just out of the oven, and...a turkey? on the counter.

"It's, um, Christmas dinner." Steve seemed...nervous? That was weird.

"Christmas dinner?"

"Yeah, Clint and Natasha used to have dinner with Agent Coulson on Christmas Day when they could, and, and Bucky and I...well, we'd try to have something special, if we could afford it, and we thought that, since everyone's here, we could have Christmas dinner together?" Steve turned around and fussed with the vegetables, grabbing serving spoons and plates to put them on.

"You made Christmas dinner?" The last time someone had made Christmas dinner for Tony was when Jarvis, the first Jarvis, was still alive. Since then he'd, well, he'd gone to galas, and once he'd visited Rhodey's family, but he'd ignored Christmas for years.

"Is that...is that okay?" And Steve seemed to actually be worried about his opinion, which was - it was weird, wasn't it? It felt weird.

"I told you, Cap, the common floor's for everyone to use, you can cook Christmas dinner if you like."

"We, actually." Clint walked into the room and grabbed a tea-towel. "You've got good timing, Tony, we were just about to call everyone. Jarvis?"

"I will let Dr Banner, Agent Romanoff, and Master Odinson know that they should come to the common floor, Agent Barton." Jarvis seemed completely unsurprised, which, I mean, of course he wasn't, he could see everything, but he hadn't mentioned it to Tony, and that was weird, almost as weird as Captain America cooking for him, and inviting him to dinner, but not really, but still weird.

"This is for all of us?" Tony asked. Honestly, what was _with_ him today and the stupid questions?

Steve looked like a kicked puppy, he really did. "Of course it is, Tony. I...you guys are my team now, and that's, that's a little like family for me, and I...I _want_ you here. I thought...well, we just moved in, and we didn't know if you celebrated Christmas, someone told me not everyone does, now, so I didn't expect decorations, or a tree, or anything, and you...that apartment is basically the biggest Christmas present I've ever gotten..."

"Me too, tin man," Clint put in.

"...and I knew I couldn't come even close to that in a week, so I didn't try to figure out presents for people, but I thought that, even if you didn't like Christmas, you wouldn't mind us having dinner as a team?" Steve finished.

Bruce walked in with Thor. "I think it's a great idea, Steve. I haven't had Christmas dinner since 2005. This looks wonderful, by the way."

Clint grinned, neatly sidestepping the Tony-Steve mutual bewilderment and uncertainty hour. "Well then, you'd better help us set the table. Thor, could you get cutlery for all of us? We'll need forks, knives, and big and small spoons."

"I will do so gladly, my friend." Thor still hadn't adjusted to his indoor voice after the time in Asgard. Apparently people were just loud there. "And this is a fine feast you have made for us."

Steve ducked his head. "Thanks, Thor."

There were a few minutes of silence while everything was ferried out to the (thankfully large) dining table. It could have seated a dozen people, but all the extra space was needed for the dishes of vegetables, ham, turkey, and lamb, the cranberry sauce and the mint sauce, the salt and pepper, the bread rolls and the butter for them, the bottles of wine and soft drink and juice and water, and the impressively large fruitcake in the middle. Natasha arrived just as everything was set up, and they all sat down, looking awkward for a second.

"Merry Christmas, I guess," said Steve, looking around the table with a tentative smile. "Go on then, eat."

 


End file.
